


The Dating Site

by thelookyouredoingthelookagain



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU-Different First Meeting, Another Man, Confusion, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Logic, M/M, Matchmaking, Mrs Hudson Meddles, Online Dating, Strangers, dating website, perfect match, secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:06:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2653052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelookyouredoingthelookagain/pseuds/thelookyouredoingthelookagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs Hudson's meddling leads Sherlock on a quest to use logic to find the perfect partner. But when John intervenes, will the science be enough for Sherlock or will his own gut instinct lead him to the right conclusion?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mrs Hudson's Idea

**Author's Note:**

> All works here were produced by two friends in the fandom. One writes as SH and one as John, and we edit together. Our characters are based on the BBC's _Sherlock_ , though we don't mind playing a little loosely with canon and the occasional AU. We have whims and like to follow them. While we like to torture our boys with constant misunderstandings, we know they belong together and we always see to that.
> 
> All posted works are complete, and we hope there will be something for everyone. Please take a look at our other works. Just a note, though, there's pretty much always going to be smut. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst, but always smut. We can't help it: that's just the way we are.
> 
> We plan to add new work each weekend, so please subscribe. 
> 
> We also really appreciate the kudos and comments --they mean so much. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

It was Mrs Hudson's idea. Of course, she knew well enough not to ask Sherlock about it in advance. She had answered the questions, even uploaded a picture, without Sherlock's knowledge. Earlier, she had burst into the flat, grinning suspiciously, and demanding that Sherlock look at her laptop. And that's when he saw it.

Sherlock Holmes had an ad on a dating site.

"Mrs Hudson!" he actually shouted at her. "Delete it now!"

"But Sherlock," she said. "I've found you the perfect partner!"  
  
"I'm not looking for a perfect partner," he said, refusing to turn his eyes towards the computer as if not looking at it meant it didn't exist. "I'm not looking for anyone."

"But," Mrs Hudson said, grappling for some reason to get him onside. "But it's scientific."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, the website uses a formula based on your personality to weed out anyone not right. And then I did the final check and I'm telling you, I found you someone who's the perfect match."  
  
"How long has this been going on?" Sherlock asked, still not looking at it.

"Just a little while," Mrs Hudson said. "The first few responses were a bit . . . crazy -- probably not real people anyway. But I'm telling you, Sherlock. This is the one."

"Let me see the crazies," Sherlock said, now turning to the computer screen. "I'm afraid to look at the profile. What did you say I was looking for?"

"Just someone you could trust, someone discreet -- Sherlock, you know I know you better than you know yourself," she said, hoping he was being drawn in.

"Man or woman?" he asked, clicking through the site.

"Um . . . I didn't specify," Mrs Hudson said.

"And yet all of these responses are from men," Sherlock said, suspiciously.

"Well, I might have been leaning a bit towards that," she said. "Here, look at this guy's response."  
  
Sherlock read over the information. The man was listed as a 100% match. "What's this calculation based on?" he asked.

"Your answers to questions about personality, lifestyle, the whole thing. Then those are compared with his."  
  
"But I didn't answer any questions," Sherlock said.

"You did. Well, I did on your behalf. But click there," she said leaning over. "Just try to deny I didn't answer them as you would have."

Sherlock glanced over them and, to be honest, the answers she had picked were right. But the questions were irrelevant and stupid. It was all stupid really -- this wasn't how people met, how they got to know each other properly.

"Just look at his for a second, you'll see I'm right," she said. pointing over to a user named Jlock71.

Sherlock clicked on it. And he was annoyed to find that it did look slightly interesting. The guy seemed aware that this was all a bit daft. He seemed quite smart but more importantly clever. Interesting. "There's no picture," he said.

Mrs Hudson knew she had him reeled in. "Well, no. You're supposed to upload your own picture but he's opted for that photograph of a book. But it probably means he's brainy, right?"

Sherlock squinted at the photo, trying to determine what the page was from. It looked like it could be from scientific text. Interesting.

"So you'll go?" Mrs Hudson asked, excitedly.

"Go where?" Sherlock asked.

"To meet him, this evening," she said. "He wants to meet you."

Sherlock shifted awkwardly in his chair. "I don't know him," he said quietly.

"I know, Sherlock. That's why you're going to meet him, to get to know him," Mrs Hudson said softly. "Do you want me to come with you?" 

"No," he said quickly. "No." He swallowed. "Where does he want to meet?"

"Some coffee shop. Nothing fancy, just a quick meeting. If you hate it or him, you'll never have to see him again and you can lord this over me for as long as you want. But," she said, "what if he's all right, Sherlock? What if he's clever and funny and tolerant of all your ridiculous behaviour? What if he's . . . handsome?"

"Is this a date for you or me?" Sherlock asked.

"For you," she said. "I want you to be happy."

"Well, none of this makes me happy, Mrs Hudson, this sneaking around," he said. "But fine, I'll go."  
  
That was four hours ago. And now Sherlock was sitting awkwardly, drinking his third cup of tea, in a coffeehouse he'd never been in, and was absolutely ready to leave. He was going to make Mrs Hudson pay for this little experiment. But for some reason, being able to prove her wrong did not feel as good as it usually did. He fiddled with his mug.

John had missed his lunch at work that day because of the other doctor not being in. The clinic had been been a mad house and he was eager to get back to his flat and relax. He watched a movie and ended up falling asleep on his sofa. He woke up properly starving so he dragged himself up to find something to eat. His refrigerator was nearly empty - oh. He was supposed to have stopped at the shop after work. He checked the cupboards and they looked even sadder. He was going to skip it when his stomach growled loudly. That was not an option.

He threw his coat on and headed for a small little café downtown. He didn't want anything fancy or slow. Just a quick sandwich and some tea and that would be all. He took a table in the corner by the counter and started looking over the menu. He ordered and sat back to wait, looking out of the windows at the passing crowd.

To be fair, Sherlock had arrived too early -- he wanted to scope out the place and see what he could read of the man before he'd even sat down. But, of course, Sherlock didn't know what he looked like so he was just trying to read every person who came in. His skills seemed a bit off, though; Sherlock would never admit it, but he was clearly a bit anxious. He looked at his watch. It was actually five minutes until the appointed time, but Sherlock already felt like he'd been stood up. However, he knew Mrs Hudson would be cross if he left without at least waiting a bit longer.

When John's food came he noticed a mam sitting near an opposite window, fiddling with his tea. He looked nervous and it made John smile softly. He was probably on a date; whoever was meeting him was lucky. The man was handsome -- tall, dark hair in curls. He went back to his food and waited to see what the date would look like.

It was now five past the time for the date. Sherlock was now even more annoyed because he felt stupid. He tried to imagine having to go home and tell Mrs Hudson. He hadn't asked for this humiliation. That's why other people weren't worth the trouble. He stared down at his tea.

John was looking up at the door and through the windows almost more anxiously than the handsome man was. No one had come to the table yet and he wondered what time the date was for. By the looks of the man's face the meeting time had passed. John started eating a bit more quickly.

Sherlock got out his phone even though he wasn't sure why -- the man didn't have his number. Instead he typed a message to Mrs Hudson.

_He's not here. I've been humiliated. Happy? . SH_

He stared at it but then deleted it. He was just frustrated and didn't need to be mean. He finished his tea. Five more minutes and then he'd leave.

When John saw the man pull his phone out he thought for a moment that maybe he knew who he was waiting for and was about to call them. But then he just fiddled with it and set it back down. Nervous and annoyed. John played through several scenarios. Where did he meet this person? Did he already know what they looked like? Was it a man or a woman? John bit his lip, formulating something crazy. He was going to risk it, keep it casual, and just see what happened. He put some money on his table, left his own tea half finished and walked over to him.

"Sorry, hello," John said, smiling at him. He was even more gorgeous up close. 

Sherlock looked up. Fine, Mrs Hudson, he thought, the man was handsome. "I didn't think you were coming," he said. "You're fifteen minutes late." It probably wasn't the best line to open with -- he could imagine Mrs Hudson scolding him for it -- but he couldn't help it. The waiting had really increased his anxiety. He tried to quickly regroup. "Do you want to sit down then?" he asked.

"I was sitting in the corner and I didn't see you come in -- I was getting up to go when I saw you," John lied. "I really am sorry -- let me treat, okay?" The same waitress came over and John tried to pretend he didn't notice, ordering a tea again and pausing for Sherlock to order. "Whatever you'd like."

"Um, another cup, please," Sherlock said to the waitress. "Why did you want to meet me?" he asked as soon as she left.

John hesitated here. "Um . . . this was all my sister's idea. No offense but I was against it from the beginning but when she set it up I didn't want to be rude. Which I see now I have been," he smiled softly. He just needed to keep everything vague and hope the real guy didn't walk through the door. 

"Why is your sister putting you up on a dating website? That seems odd," Sherlock said, as if the fact that his landlady had put him up on one wasn't that odd. "Do you have some kind of strange family dynamic?" For some reason, he felt like he wanted to find fault with this guy. 

"Well, she's a recovering alcoholic and this was just one of her wild ideas," John said. "I saw no reason that you should have to suffer for it," he added. Not a complete lie. His sister was in rehab again and when he called she had been adamant on setting him up with one of the nurses taking care of her. This sort of counted as that. "Is this your first time trying this?"  

"It is," Sherlock said. "Why are you alone? You're handsome, obviously well-educated. Do you have some kind of underlying problem which means other people don't like you?" Sherlock had a feeling that questions like this were the 'ridiculous behaviour' Mrs Hudson referred to earlier. Would this guy be as 'tolerant' as she suggested he might be?

John flushed lightly. "Well, I just recently came back from Afghanistan and I've been trying to settle in. I just got a job at the clinic actually and it keeps me pretty busy. No time to really meet anyone properly," John said. 

"I see," Sherlock said. "And your name is . . .?"

"Oh! Right, sorry," John said, rubbing the back of his neck. He was really mucking this up. He should have stayed in his seat. "It's John. John Watson. What's yours?"

"Sherlock Holmes," he said. "And I should probably tell you that I did not set up that profile. I have no idea what was on it that made you choose me and I also have no idea what information was discussed in the messages, so if you're expecting something . . . I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. I'm sorry if you feel misled but none of this was my doing." There -- now he'd made himself clear. Yet he didn't get up and leave.

John blinked at him. "Right. Well, it wasn't mine either but I thought I would give it a try. If you didn't want to then you shouldn't have invited me to sit down. We could have ended this right from the beginning and saved ourselves a lot of time," he said. He was a bit annoyed now even though he had no reason to be. He had hijacked this date, and now he was mad that it wasn't going well. 

Sherlock looked over at John's face. It was quite handsome. And earnest. And now it looked a bit frustrated. But John didn't leave either. And for some reason, Sherlock kind of liked that. "Are you hungry?" he asked him.

John was so thrown by the question that he felt his annoyance fade. "Not really -- are you? I don't mind if you get something," he said.  

"I was trying to ask you out on a date for dinner, at a proper restaurant," Sherlock said.

"I ate earlier, but I am free again tomorrow," John said, his stomach flipping happily at the thought that this man wanted to see him again. "Does that work?"

"All right, let's," Sherlock said. "Shall we meet somewhere?"

"Sure. I'll be on time this time," he smiled. "Do you live around here? What's good?"

"Whenever you want is fine," Sherlock said. "I don't live around here." He thought for a moment. "There's a little Italian in the middle. It's called Angelo's. Shall we meet there at seven? Sharp." And Sherlock made a little smile, which surprised himself.

John smiled wider and nodded. "All right. I love Italian food so that works perfectly. Does that mean this date is over?"

"Yes," Sherlock said. "I'm not very good at these things . . . as perhaps you may have deduced already. I think perhaps I should take my leave now while you still seem slightly charmed." He finished off his fourth cup of tea and stood up. "It was good to meet you, John Watson."

John stood up as well and smiled up at him. Sherlock was taller than he'd realized before. "It was very good meeting you too, Sherlock." John put his hand out and shook Sherlock's before he picked up his hardly touched cup to take it with him. "I will see you tomorrow at . . . seven fifteen?" he grinned. 

"Perfect," Sherlock said. He looked at John's face one more time and then walked out. He headed home, doing his best to sneak into the flat before catching Mrs Hudson's attention. Once inside, he put on the kettle but realised he couldn't really face another cup at the moment. Instead he opened his laptop and went to John's profile, reading it over and trying to match it to his face.

John grinned and left for his own flat feeling very light and happy. When he got home, he realised he should probably try to find Sherlock's profile so that he could keep this going easier. One day he knew he would have to tell Sherlock the truth but for now he ignored that little fact -- whoever was supposed to meet him really missed out. There were way too many dating sites to weed through and all of them used a nickname instead of real names. Getting desperate he typed Sherlock's name into the search engine and found a website. It was a blog on various experiments and other scientific information. John smiled softly and started looking through it -- these were things he could talk about and it wouldn't matter about not knowing what was on his profile.  

Mrs Hudson knocked softly as she stepped through the door. "So . . .?" she said excitedly.

"He was late," Sherlock said. He got up and moved to the sofa. 

"You're smiling," she said.

"I am not," he said.

"When you get married, I can't wait to give you away," she said, getting up and kissing the top of his head.

"Get out," Sherlock said. Then he rolled over on the sofa and closed his eyes.


	2. A Proper Date

Since John had covered for the other doctor, he had the next day off. He'd stayed up too late reading about tobacco ash and different dog furs and it was nice to sleep in. When he finally dragged himself out of bed, he finally went to do his shopping before coming home to get ready for the date. It was a bit early but he needed it. Last night he hadn't been ready to meet someone, and he was lucky he'd left the flat looking decent. Tonight he showered and shaved, picked a nice date outfit, and made sure when he left he was going to be right on time, if not a bit early. He had almost forgotten what Sherlock had looked like and his brain was over exaggerating his features. John couldn't wait to see him -- to memorise his face and his smile and his eyes so he would never forget them again. He hoped he would have that chance. When he got to Angelo's, he waited outside for Sherlock so they could go in together. 

Sherlock wasn't sure whether or not to trust John to arrive on time. As he turned the corner, he saw John standing in front of Angelo's. He still looked handsome. Sherlock smiled and called out for him and they walked in together. Angelo sat them down at the front table.

"You look nice," John smiled after they had been seated. 

"Do I?" Sherlock said stupidly. "You're handsome. I mean, you look handsome."

John smiled. "That's what having extra time will do -- don't get used to it," he teased. 

Sherlock smiled. He ordered some wine and then looked over at John. "Did you tell your sister about me?" he asked.

"No -- well, not yet. She can only get calls once a week," he explained. "I found your blog last night," he said to change the subject. 

"Did you?" Sherlock said. "And you still decided to come out with me tonight?"

"It was interesting. Well, it makes you more interesting. Is that what you do? You're a scientist?"

"Yes," Sherlock said. "And a consulting detective. That's how I already know all the important things I need to know about you."

"Oh? Like what?" John asked, sipping at his wine. 

"You're kind but not a pushover. You're eager but not stupidly so. You take responsibility seriously. You like a challenge but there are few in your life right now. And you're cheap." He took a sip of wine. "And, as I mentioned earlier, you're handsome, but one doesn't need special skills to see that."

John smiled and took a bigger sip of wine. "Seems like you got me all figured out. Do you work for the police? Is that the consulting part?" He paused so they could order before looking back at Sherlock again. 

Sherlock smiled smugly. "The consulting part means I get paid. Sometimes by the police, other times by other people. Did you want to hire me? Is that what all this has been about?" He swallowed more wine. He was quite enjoying John's company.

"No. I didn't know that's what you did, did I?" John smiled. "But it sounds very interesting. I bet you're never bored."

"You say you didn't, but you might be lying," Sherlock said. "Let me have a good look at your face." He used this as excuse to properly inspect John. "Okay, fine, you're not lying."

John raised his brows and grinned. "I think you may have just wanted to look at me," he teased. 

"Possibly," Sherlock said. He felt his face flush and he looked down at his wine. "Is this the first time you've ever done this?" he then said, trying to turn the subject away from himself.

"What exactly? Online dating?" John asked. 

"Yeah. Have you never gone out with someone you met on that site?"

"This is my first time dating someone who I didn't meet in person first. How about you?"

"It's kind of my first date ever," Sherlock said. "I don't really do this kind of business."

"Really?" John asked, his voice softening. "Well, am I doing well?" 

"Of course, I've got nothing to compare it to, but yes," Sherlock said. "Yes, I like it."

John smiled wider. "I'm glad you like it. I do too," he said. 

They ordered their food and talked a bit more about themselves. When their meals arrived, Sherlock did his best to eat some but didn't bother trying to eat it all. "Your food all right?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, it's great," John smiled. "So if you don't normally do this, what made you come out this time?" He almost added he must have seen something special on John's profile before he remembered it wasn't actually him on that profile.

"Someone bullied me into it," Sherlock said, which was kind of true, but also didn't sound quite right. "I suppose because our answers to the questions apparently matched. The site said we were a 100% match. I suppose I was curious. Of course, you might have been lying in your answers." He smiled. "I seem to be committed to determining you're a liar. Sorry."

It wasn't lost on John how true those last words were, but he tried to ignore them. "A hundred percent -- that's pretty impressive," he smiled. 

"So does that mean you really are into bestiality and foursomes?" Sherlock said, smiling widely. 

"What?" John asked, laughing and shaking his head. "I was hoping to discuss that on the fourth date actually." He tried to be serious but failed miserably. 

"Are you nervous about the prospect of our first kiss?" Sherlock asked. "Not that anything's guaranteed, of course. But are you nervous?"

"Excited more than nervous," John smiled. "I've been thinking about it since yesterday."

Sherlock's eyebrow instinctively raised. "Your answer online said you got nervous. So you were lying?"

"No, I meant if I don't know what the other person is thinking. But since you brought it up and want to I'm not," he lied quickly. 

"When did I say I want to?" Sherlock asked.

"I thought since you . . . never mind," he said quietly, playing with his food. 

"So are we going to kiss or not?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, I want to, of course. Do you? We don't have to." John took a deep breath to still his thoughts. 

Sherlock leaned across the table and kissed John lightly. Then he sat back and fiddled with his food again. "There," Sherlock said, "sorted."

John blinked at him, his mouth in a small, surprised 'O'. "I wasn't ready," he said stupidly. 

"Then perhaps we can have another try after dinner," Sherlock said. He put his fork down. He noticed Angelo looking over and smiling. "Are you cross?" he asked quietly.

"No! Oh no," John assured him. "Just surprised."

"Well, all of this is a surprise to me," Sherlock said. "I mean, you're another person and I don't hate you. That's a surprise."

"I suppose I'm flattered then," John smiled. 

"I know you don't know me, but you've got to trust me, that's probably the nicest thing I've ever said to someone else," Sherlock said. "Do you want to get coffee or something?"

"Yeah, let's walk. It's nice enough out," John said. He fished out his wallet and left some money on the table.

Sherlock stood up and led them out. They headed down the street. "Am I doing okay on the date so far?" he said softly.

John reached out and took his hand. "You're doing great," he smiled. 

"So are you, I mean, it's been a good date," Sherlock said, a little flustered. "I'm glad we've done this, met, I mean." He looked forward but squeezed John's hand.

"Yeah, me too," John said. For a moment he thought about telling Sherlock the truth but he didn't want to ruin what was happening. He gripped Sherlock's hand and smiled up at him. 

"What usually happens now, in a date scenario? I don't know, John, I really don't," Sherlock said. He was enjoying holding hands: yes, Sherlock Holmes liked holding someone's hand. Odd.

"Well, I'd like to kiss you some more," John admitted. "But I won't be so forward as to asking you to come over yet," he smiled. 

"So I shouldn't ask you to come to mine then?" Sherlock asked. "Here. Stop." He stopped them and turned to face John. "You can kiss me if you want."

John faced him and put both hands on Sherlock's cheeks. "Do you really want me to?" He murmured against his lips, resuming the kiss before Sherlock could answer. He kissed him softly but deeply. 

"Obviously I do," Sherlock said, pulling back and smiling. "I don't do anything that I don't want to do, John Watson. You should probably know that about me." He pulled John by the hand again and resumed walking towards his flat.

John felt happy and excited but he also recognised his guilt getting worse. This was a big step and even though he kept reminding himself that Sherlock knew who he was -- John hadn't used a fake name and he hadn't lied about anything when they were talking over dinner -- the bottom line was that he wasn't who Sherlock thought he was supposed to be seeing. He wasn't Sherlock's 100% match. He couldn't find a good time to bring it up. Or he wasn't really trying to. 

Sherlock unlocked the floor and led John through. As they were walking up the stairs, Mrs Hudson's door opened. "Sherlock?" she called, peeping her head out.

"Mrs Hudson," Sherlock said, stopping on the step. "This, um, this is a criminal I apprehended earlier this evening. Unfortunately the jails are full this evening, so Lestrade asked if I could keep him here overnight."

Mrs Hudson stepped out, trying to peer up and get a good look at the man's face.

"If anything happens," Sherlock said. "I believe you have his contact details somewhere on that computer of yours." He stepped up and pushed the door open and John inside. "This is my flat," he said closing the door behind him.

"Um . . . why am I a criminal?" John asked, smiling as he looked around. It was messy, but almost comfortably so. The post was knifed onto the mantle, there were papers everywhere, and the whole kitchen table was covered in beakers. "You're not going to handcuff me, are you?" He smiled wider. 

"You didn't mention anything about handcuffs in your profile," Sherlock said, moving to the kitchen to turn on the kettle. "I'll be honest with you. I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do. I usually have a plan, but I confess at the moment, I am completely without one." He turned to glance on John. "How do you take your tea?"

"I was teasing," John said, joining him in the kitchen. He was careful not to knock anything over as he leaned on the counter. "Just milk, please," he added. He looked around the kitchen and then back to Sherlock. "Is that who bullied you into going out with me?" 

"Yes, it was she," Sherlock said, handing John his tea. "She set up the profile and everything. But don't worry -- I did look at the questions and the answers were right so the 100% still stands."

"Oh good," John said with exaggerated relief. 

Sherlock led them into the sitting room. "So this is my flat. Is it what you imagined? Is yours identical since we're such a match?" he asked.

John smiled. "Actually mine is neat and pretty much empty. Mind you since I just got back I don't have a lot of things," he added. 

"Hmmm," Sherlock said. "Odd." He stood up and brought his tea over to sit down on the sofa next to John. "Were you still interested in more kissing?" he asked quietly.

"Yes I am," John murmured. "Interested in kissing -- not odd," he added with a small smile, moving closer to him. He brought his hands to Sherlock's waist, gently tugging him closer until their lips met. 

Sherlock let himself fall into the kiss. It was soft and good. John was obviously a handsome man, but it was more than that. Only one day of knowing each other couldn't prove or disprove the silly dating site's calculations, but Sherlock knew John was different than anyone else he'd ever met.

John pressed into the kiss, parting his lips to deepen it. He'd never felt so good with someone so quickly after meeting them. 

Sherlock realised that, while he hadn't been missing closeness with someone else, it was making him feel very good. Very much like he wanted more. He pressed himself against John, moving him back flat on to the sofa so Sherlock was lying on top of him. "Just a little more," he said softly, before kissing John's mouth again.

John hummed his agreement, kissing him back and bringing both hands around Sherlock, holding his back and hair as he squirmed lightly beneath him. His warmth and weight felt as good as the kissing. 

"John," Sherlock said softly, kissing down to his neck and softly sucking the skin there. He moved a hand to hold John's hip. Suddenly Sherlock felt himself starting to get hard -- something that hadn't happened in the presence of another person for a very long time. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea so he shifted slightly and just stayed still, resting with part of his weight against the back of the sofa.

"Yes?" John murmured, rolling his hips against Sherlock's. "Yes," he said again but this time it wasn't a question. 

Sherlock fell back onto John, kissing his mouth a little harder this time, moving his hand back to John's hip and gripping it through his clothes. He let his hips rock against John's as he let the kiss get a little sloppy and much more urgent.

John moaned and bucked up harder now, returning the kiss with equal fervor. He gripped at Sherlock's clothes and body, pulling him impossibly closer. 

"This is . . ." Sherlock tried to say but he didn't even know what word to pick. It was good but that didn't seem enough. It was unusual but that probably was not the greatest line at this point. So he didn't say anything, just focused on the kissing and the movement of their bodies.

"I know," John murmured, dipping to kiss and suck on Sherlock's neck now. He was hard and very obviously rubbing against Sherlock. He didn't know where exactly this was heading, but he didn't want to stop.

Now they were moving in a rhythm and Sherlock didn't think he wanted to stop. John had started something within him, something that he had mainly excluded from his life, but now he didn't want them to stop. "God," he said in a soft moan.

"You're driving me wild," John murmured against his skin, nipping softly as he made his way back up to his mouth.

"Is it all right?" Sherlock asked, hoping that John would say yes and they could keep going.

"Oh yes," John moaned softly. "Sherlock . . . it's fantastic." He went back to kissing Sherlock, rolling his hips now with a steadier rhythm and gripping with more need. 

"I'm close, John, I'm sorry," Sherlock said. "It's been a long time." He didn't even care at this moment about admitting this to him. He just didn't want to stop.

"Don't apologise," John murmured, pressing kisses along his cheek and jaw and back again to his mouth. "M'close too." He shifted and let Sherlock slip properly between his legs before bucking up harder, pulling Sherlock against him as he moaned. 

"John," Sherlock called loudly and then pressed his mouth hard against John's mouth. His hips thrust against John's and he felt himself exploding inside his pants. "God," he called again as he rocked through his orgasm.

John groaned loudly and was only able to watch him for a minute before his own orgasm had him writhing and moaning for Sherlock. He bucked through it, slowly settling and slumping into the sofa with Sherlock comfortably on top of him. 

Sherlock lay silently for a few minutes as they each caught their breath. "I-I don't . . . I've not done something like that in a long time," he said making a little chuckle.

John smiled. "I haven't done it this way since I was a teenager," he said. 

Sherlock wasn't sure what to make of that -- did that mean John usually slept with all his dates? Sherlock thought for a moment -- was he really jealous of people he didn't even know because they'd slept with John whom he barely knew? It was a bit silly really. "Well," Sherlock said, pushing himself up a bit and sitting properly on the sofa. "Well, anyway, I liked it, I mean, thanks." He rolled his eyes at himself. "Sorry, I don't know what I'm supposed to say. I told you -- I've got no experience with how dates work. That's not normal then?"

John sat up and scoot a bit closer to Sherlock in his attempt to get comfortable. "I liked it a lot too, Sherlock. I didn't mean it like that," he explained. "I just meant that it's been a long time since someone made me feel so good that I couldn't even get to the taking clothes off part." Was that making sense? He didn't know what he was saying. "I liked it, Sherlock. I like you."

Sherlock looked over at John. "I like you, too," he said. "I liked our date."

"I did too," John smiled. "I'll call you tomorrow -- maybe we can meet up for lunch while I'm at work?" 

"Yes," Sherlock said. "I'd like that." He got out his phone and asked John to type in his number and then gave John his. He stood up and walked John to the door. "I would like to see you tomorrow, John. I would." He leaned in and gave him a soft kiss.

John smiled into the kiss. "I would like that, too. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He touched Sherlock's hand before leaving, wishing he could stay for the night. But it wouldn't be long before he was seeing Sherlock again. 

Sherlock moved back from the door and realised he needed to clean himself up. He jumped into a quick shower and then decided to put on his pajamas.

Mrs Hudson thought she heard footsteps on the steps. She opened her door just as John was leaving. She rushed upstairs to the flat and called out for Sherlock.

"Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock called from his room. "I'm nude!" He tried to sound angry. He came out a couple minutes later.

"So?" she asked impatiently.

"So what?"

"So was he perfect for you?"

"No one is perfect, Mrs Hudson," Sherlock said, moving to turn the kettle on again.

"Sherlock Holmes, your grin makes you look absolutely stupid," she said, smiling herself. "Why did he leave? What did you do to him?"

"I didn't do anything," Sherlock said, even though he had, of course. "It was only a first date. What do you take me for?"

"Sherlock, you shouldn't have let him go. You should have insisted he immediately moved in. You're not a teenager, you know," she said.

"Is this how you celebrate good news?" Sherlock said.

She smiled and leaned in to give him a hug. "I'm glad you think it's good news, Sherlock. It is. I hope he can make you happy. That's all I wanted," she said. She stepped away. "Now, let's see -- have you set up a time to see each other again?"

"Tomorrow. Lunch time. Does that meet with your approval?"

"Tomorrow? Yes, this is very good news indeed. All right, I'll leave you be now," she said. "Have a good sleep. You need your beauty rest now, you know."

Sherlock pulled a face at her and took his tea into his bedroom.

John took a cab home and got into the shower as soon as he arrived. He felt like a teenager again, not just with the grinding but just the thought of Sherlock was making him grin like an idiot. A small voice pointed out that if Sherlock were to find out the truth, he probably wouldn't care now. He seemed to like John a lot so it all worked out. Yet another voice remembered how Sherlock had made such a big deal about truth, so maybe it wouldn't be so easy.


	3. Another Date

The next morning John went off to work and tried to judge by the patients he saw already waiting what the rest of the day would bring.

_Good morning. I think I'll be free around 1. -JW_

Sherlock had already been up and about for a few hours and by the time, John texted he was having a quick nap on the sofa. He was glad John still wanted to see him again.

_Where shall we meet? SH_

_There's a small café near the hospital - does that sound good? -JW_

_Sounds good. SH_

Sherlock looked at his watch and realised he didn't need to leave just yet. He settled back on the sofa for a bit.

A half hour later, Mrs Hudson came upstairs. "Your boyfriend's trying to reach you," she said, poking her head through the door.

"I don't have a boyfriend, Mrs Hudson," Sherlock said, waking up properly and sitting up. "What are you talking about anyway?"

"He's sent three messages on the website. Didn't you give him your number?" she said.

"I did," Sherlock said, getting up and moving over to his desk. "We're supposed to meeting for lunch." He logged onto the website. "Why were you on there anyway? Or are you looking for a 99% perfect for me as a back up in case this one didn't work out?"

"I have my own profile," she said. "You're not the only one in the house who could use a little love, you know. I went to check in and must have kept you logged on. Look," she said pointing at the notifications in the Inbox.

_Jlock71: This is awkward. I hope you'll accept my apology._

_Jlock71: Will you let me make it up to you?_

_Jlock71: Lunch at Angelo's at noon_?

Sherlock looked at his watch and then at Mrs Hudson. "I'd better get going. We were going to meet at one near the hospital, but it looks like plans have changed," he stood up quickly. "I don't know why he's being so dramatic about it -- it's not that big of a deal." He nipped into the bathroom to brush his teeth and sort his hair. Then he came back out, "Do I look, you know, all right?"  
  
"Perfect for a second date," Mrs Hudson said.

"Third date," Sherlock corrected. He headed out to Angelo's. When he got there, he looked around but didn't see John. He sat down at the table where they had sat last night. Angelo stopped to talk to a man and then pointed at Sherlock. They walked together over to Sherlock's table and the man sat down. "Well, you've got quite a few plates spinning, don't you?" Angelo said under his breath, as he set down two menus.

"I am really sorry," the man said. "I . . . chickened out. I'd never done this before -- it wasn't even my idea to set up the profile, but when my friend saw we were 100% matched he put on the pressure until I set up the date. And then I just couldn't go through with it. It just seemed daft, I mean -- that's not really how people meet, is it? Then I was embarrassed about the whole thing and wanted to just pretend it'd never happened. But I guess I just got curious so . . ." the man looked down. "Jesus Christ, I sound like an idiot. Anyway, sorry. Let's start again. I'm Jason. It's good to finally meet you," he said, extending his hand across the table.

Sherlock shook it because he didn't know what else to do. His brain had suddenly slowed down to a normal person's pace and he was trying to process what was happening. "Right," he said finally. "Right . . . so you're Jlock 71?"

"Yes," the man said. "You can just call me Jason, though." He looked up and smiled.

The man was very handsome. Sherlock found the man very handsome. Not in the same way John was handsome, but still quite handsome. Wait -- John. If John wasn't Jlock 71, who was he? Was he somehow tricking Sherlock? Was this all some kind of game? And to what ends?

And what was Sherlock supposed to do about this Jason? Who was he?

He was 100% perfect for Sherlock. Scientifically proven apparently.

Sherlock couldn't think of what to do. For a second he wished he could magic up Mrs Hudson and just take what ever advice she offered.

But he couldn't. So instead he said, "You can call me Sherlock."

Ten minutes before one John left and walked to the café and got a table near the window for them. He put off ordering until Sherlock got there. He kept checking the window and the door but the café was nearly empty. He took a stroll around just in case Sherlock hadn't seen him. But he wasn't here. John checked his watch and sat back down.

_Everything okay? -JW_

He continued waiting. He ordered so it wouldn't look strange. There was no message back. Was he mad for how quickly John had left last night? Or for his comment? John looked around anxiously again.

_I have to go back to work now. Sorry I missed you.-JW_

_Please text me when you can. -JW_

John got up and left, feeling a little embarrassed and mostly sad. Everything had been going well -- he didn't understand what had happened.

Sherlock wasn't hungry but he decided one cup of tea would be okay. He remembered that the only reason he'd gone out in the first place was to meet the person who was supposedly his ideal partner. He'd thought it was John but maybe John only seemed so perfect because Sherlock had believed he was the guy on the website. But this man was the guy on the website. He was the real one.

And he was quite nice. He was smart and interesting and, Sherlock thought as he listened to him talk about his work, still quite handsome. Could Mrs Hudson's website have been right all along?

But what about John? What had happened last night on the sofa -- that had felt perfect. Right. Real. But in truth, what did Sherlock really know about John -- if he'd lied about being the website man, what else had he lied about? 

Then he felt his phone vibrate and knew it must be John. He didn't know if he should answer. So he didn't. He silently cursed Mrs Hudson in his head for getting him into this mess.

After a little while of talking, Jason said, "Do you want to take a walk or something?"

And Sherlock kind of did. But somehow it seemed wrong: being at Angelo's and then walking, just with Jason today instead of John. What if Jason tried to kiss Sherlock as John had done? He wasn't sure what he thought about that. If Jason was perfect, wouldn't Sherlock know he wanted to kiss him? If John were the perfect one, wouldn't he know he didn't want to kiss Jason? Sherlock decided he needed to be able to think. They exchanged phone numbers and Sherlock went on a walk by himself. Eventually he pulled out his phone and texted John.

_Could you come over to mine after work, please? I need to speak with you urgently. SH_

John couldn't stop thinking about Sherlock, and he saw the rest of his patients distractedly. When his phone went off, he sent out the patient he was seeing with a rushed diagnosis. 

_Yes, I'll be there as soon as I get off. -JW_

After three more patients he made an excuse to leave a bit early and he hailed a cab to get to Sherlock's. When he arrived he felt his stomach flipping nervously. He knocked on the door and stuffed his hands in his pockets to wait.


	4. The Truth

Sherlock had made two cups of tea and set them down on the table before he went to open the door. He stepped back and moved to his chair, where he picked up one cup. "Come in," he said awkwardly.

John stepped inside and closed the door slowly. He took a couple steps into the sitting room, but didn't know if he should sit down. "I missed you today," he said again, licking his lips nervously.

Sherlock nodded for John to sit down. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a packet of sugar. "Here's sugar, in case that's how you really take it." Then he stood up and retrieved a book which he set on the table in front of John.

"Can you explain the significance of this book, please?" he asked. He sat back down in his chair.

John frowned when Sherlock offered him the sugar packet and somewhere deep down he knew what was happening. He leaned over to look at the book and shook his head. He'd never seen it before. "I don't know," he said quietly. He looked up at Sherlock and swallowed hard.

"Strange then, that you'd choose it for your profile picture," Sherlock said. He looked straight at John -- who yesterday he thought might be the ideal mate and now just reminded of him of how foolish he'd been. He'd been so distracted by John's handsome face that he hadn't once Googled his name or done any kind of check on him. He was embarrassed by how quickly he'd got sucked up into Mrs Hudson's romantic notions.

"Everything I said about myself was true, Sherlock. Everything about my drunk sister and my job at the clinic and my just having come back from war," John explained desperately. "The only thing I lied about was having a profile. I-I was at the cafe and I could tell you had been stood up. I thought you were handsome and I felt bad that your date hadn't showed, but I was kind of happy because I wanted to meet you and I did and it just got out of hand. The things I said about you -- about how I feel about you -- it's all true. I'm sorry I lied to you." He realised he was twisting his jumper in his hands and he let go, smoothing it out instead of looking at Sherlock. "I'm sorry." 

For a second Sherlock wished he could just pretend he hadn't brought it up. He wished he didn't know. But he did. "Well, he showed up today," he said, lowering his eyes.

John felt his mouth open and then close and then open again. "Oh. Mr. One Hundred Percent," he murmured. "Well, okay, um . . ." John was stammering now and he stood up, moving for the door. "I hope he's good . . . I mean . . . I hope it works." He bumped into the door and he reached to open it without looking away from Sherlock. He hadn't counted on that man showing up late. 

"That's it? You're leaving?" Sherlock said, watching him get up. "You claim you meant everything you said and yet you're leaving?"

"I thought . . . I thought that's what you wanted, why you were telling me that you found the right guy," John said. He leaned against the door, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't want to go. I want to kiss you. And I want to find this guy and tell him that he missed his chance. And then thank him for not coming that night." 

"I didn't say I found the right one," Sherlock said. "I said I met that one a computer said was perfect for me. I only agreed to go to that coffee shop that day to find out if the computer was right. But then I met you. And I wanted to find out if you were the right one. But you . . . lied. That's the first thing you did, John, you tricked me. And quite frankly, I normally enjoy a good trick. But not when it's on me."

"I didn't . . ." he trailed off because Sherlock was right. John couldn't say he hadn't lied. "I came up to you and I just wanted to meet you and you assumed and I know I should have corrected you, but I really wanted to meet you. I was going to tell you." He licked his lips lightly. "I meant everything else . . . I did." 

Sherlock sat quietly for a moment. "When we were at Angelo's I looked at your face and said you weren't a liar. You really fooled me. I don't think you have any idea what that means. Very few people can fool Sherlock Holmes, John. And you did. Which in a strange way makes me respect you. But I'm not sure I can trust you. And I . . . wonder if I should regret doing what we did. I told you I don't do that kind of thing usually because I don't. Because I don't trust people enough to . . ." his voice trailed off because it wasn't really about the sex, it was about the intimacy, the vulnerability. And now John had made him vulnerable again, but it didn't feel good like last night. "I don't know quite what to do, John. And until I know, I should probably not do anything."

John moved forward suddenly and had been planning on touching him, holding his cheeks, but it felt wrong and he stopped short. He met Sherlock's eyes and held his gaze. "I am sorry, Sherlock. I am so, so sorry for lying about the profile, but I'm not apologising for anything else. I like you a lot--I meant that from the beginning and I hope that you can forgive me." He waited for a second longer before turning around and leaving. He hurried down the stairs and out into the street, trying to hail a cab. When none stopped, he started walking and hoped he could get one on the way home. He couldn't stay still. He couldn't believe how badly it had all gone. 

Sherlock watched John leave and then stood up and watched him from his window. This was all too confusing. He locked the flat's door and went in to lie down on the bed.

When John got home he crawled right into bed even though it was still early. He kept opening and reading the few texts they had exchanged, waiting for a new message -- a change of heart -- anything. 

Sherlock stared up at the ceiling. He wished he hadn't even started any of this. But if he hadn't, what happened last night wouldn't have happened and doing that with John had been good. He didn't want to think about how to solve this problem because he didn't know how to. He just wanted to already be certain about what to do, but he wasn't because he'd never been in a situation like this and he knew it was about emotions and those weren't his strong point. He rolled over and tried to will himself to sleep. He could think tomorrow. He heard his phone vibrate and slowly lifted it to his face.

_I'm glad you gave me another chance. Jason_

Sherlock knew it'd be rude not to respond, but in truth he felt slightly disappointed that it hadn't been a text from John. But why would John text? Sherlock had made it clear, the next move was his and his alone. He realised this couldn't wait until tomorrow. He got up and moved to his laptop.

The first thing he did was a background check on both men. He found out that John had not been lying about the details of his life that he'd shared. And that Jason was a chemistry professor and had two books forthcoming from publishers highly respected in the field. Sherlock opened a document and made a chart

                                                            Jason                                             John

Background check                                    √                                                √

 

He then added the other things that he either knew about them or felt would be important in a companion.

                                                            Jason                                              John

Background check                                    √                                                √

Intelligence                                               √                                                √

Cleverness                                                √                                                √

Looks                                                        √                                                √

Trustworthiness                                               

He stared at the list for a moment. Did Jason seem trustworthy? He had stood him up. But he did follow through eventually with an explanation that, quite frankly, totally fit Sherlock's own views of the dating site: he thought it was silly and had almost left himself, but he was curious. Perhaps they were in total sync? John, too, had been curious -- which is why he'd risked coming over to Sherlock's table. That was good. But he'd lied. He'd tricked Sherlock. Sherlock couldn't ignore that. He adjusted the chart.

                                                            Jason                                              John

Background check                                    √                                                √

Intelligence                                               √                                                √

Cleverness                                                √                                                √

Looks                                                        √                                                √

Trustworthiness                                        √

Curiosity                                                   √                                                √

But now John was losing, and Sherlock didn't want him to be. Why? It didn't matter, he needed to think. What did John have that Jason didn't?

Sherlock had kissed John, had wanted him. Did Sherlock want Jason? It was hard to say because this situation hadn't arisen. He tried to imagine kissing Jason, but couldn't really -- he'd never been very good at that type of imagination. He looked at the chart again.

                                                            Jason                                             John

Background check                                    √                                                √

Intelligence                                               √                                                √

Cleverness                                                √                                                √

Looks                                                       √                                                √

Trustworthiness                                       √

Curious                                                    √                                                √

Desirable                                                  ?                                                 √

Now Sherlock had a problem he could solve. He reached for his phone.

_Any chance you could come round to mine? 221B Baker Street SH_

He stood up and looked around the flat. He washed his and John's mugs and went into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, before coming back out, sitting down on the sofa, and watching his phone.

_Sure. See you in 20. Jason_

John couldn't stop moving as if Sherlock would text him when he finally found a comfortable position. Staring at his phone was going to drive him crazy. He got up and put the phone on the dresser, turned it up, and then lay back down. But now that was making him even more crazy. He got up and retrieved his phone again, stuffing it under the other pillow. Out of sight but hardly out of mind. If Sherlock could tell a liar just by looking, why couldn't he tell that John really meant what he'd said about his feelings for him? He didn't take Sherlock as the mind to take stock in some website statistic. He sighed loudly and checked his phone again even though it hadn't made a sound. Eventually he'd have to give it up as a loss and continue with his life. But not today. Not yet.

Sherlock poured himself a glass of wine before Jason arrived. Drinking it helped relax him a little -- but did that mean something? No, probably not. He had wine at dinner with John.

He heard Mrs Hudson answer the door downstairs. He got up and opened the door to the flat.

"Sherlock," Mrs Hudson called. "You've got a visitor."  
  
"This is the man from the website," he told her, stepping aside to invite Jason in.

Jason turned and smiled at Mrs Hudson. "Nice to meet you," he said and then stepped into the flat.

Mrs Hudson looked up at Sherlock with a confused face. He shut the door.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked Jason.

Jason noticed the empty wine glass. "Some of that would be fine," he said, looking around the place. He wandered over to Sherlock's workspace. "Is this that experiment you were telling me about?" he asked, skimming over Sherlock's notes.

"Yes," Sherlock said coming over and handing him a glass. He didn't really like people touching his stuff, but if anyone could help him with the part he was struggling with, it probably would be this man. He took a sip, well a gulp, of wine.

Jason bent over and looked more closely at Sherlock's notes. "Well, this is wrong to start with," he said.

"What is? I seriously doubt that," Sherlock said, looking over.

Jason explained the mistake in the notation and then stood up straight again, turning to look at Sherlock's books. Sherlock bent down and examined his notes. Jason was right about the error. He was right and knowing it would help Sherlock a lot. For some reason, though, Sherlock was annoyed by both those things. This man was right and helpful but it was annoying. Sherlock was pretty sure that Mrs Hudson had once described him with those terms. Perhaps Jason was precisely the same as Sherlock.

"Let's sit down," Sherlock said, moving over to the sofa.

Jason followed.

"You're very handsome," Sherlock said, not really looking at him.

"Thanks," Jason said. "You are as well."

"I think we should kiss now," Sherlock said, feeling absolutely stupid. This is why he never went on dates, never bothered to try to find someone else. He was absolutely stupid about all of this.

"Um, okay," Jason said. "Don't be nervous." His voice was soft and kind. Sherlock looked over at him. He set his glass on the table and moved a little closer. He leaned in and kissed Jason's mouth.

Jason kissed back. He lifted a hand to the back of Sherlock's head, deepening the kiss. Then it was over.

Sherlock didn't feel anything about it. It wasn't a horrible kiss. But it didn't make him feel anything.

"Well, that was a whole lot of nothing," Jason said softly.

Sherlock looked over at Jason who was smiling back at him. "Sorry," Jason said. "But it was, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Sherlock said. "I'm afraid it was."

"Shame," Jason said. "I do really like you. And I meant it, you are incredibly handsome. I mean, we could try again if you want . . . we could try more, if you want to be sure."

Sherlock looked over at Jason, tried to picture them kissing again, them falling back on to each other as he and John had done. He smiled a little. "I don't think that'll be necessary," he said, taking another sip of wine.

Jason smiled back. "Nor do I," he said. He finished his wine. "Well, that's what we get for being logical, I guess."

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked. 

"Well, be honest. Ultimately, didn't we both want to meet just to check the computer's accuracy? Didn't we both know in our guts that that wasn't how things worked? And we were right," Jason said. "We might still be lonely, but at least we were right."

"Are you lonely?" Sherlock asked.

Jason thought for a moment. "No, to be honest, I'm not. I have my work, my colleagues, a couple friends -- maybe a new one in you. I'm not lonely. Are you?"

"I don't think so," Sherlock said. He hadn't been. Mrs Hudson might have thought he needed someone else to be happy, but he hadn't felt that way. Except at this very moment, he did feel lonely -- he felt lonely for John. "Well," he said, standing up. "I've got a quick errand to run."

"All right," Jason said, picking up the cue. "Look -- this was a good thing. I'm glad we know now. I think I'll delete that profile. It was silly. People like us, we find what we need ourselves, don't we?" He moved to get his coat.

"Yes, we do," Sherlock said, moving towards the door.

Jason turned around and held out his hand. "I am glad we met, Sherlock. If you need any more help, don't hesitate to call."  
  
Sherlock shook his hand. "Or if you want to talk about anything you're working on, we could get coffee." They both smiled and Jason left.

Sherlock turned and took out his phone and texted John.

_You shouldn't have tricked me. SH_

Sherlock put on his coat and scarf and headed downstairs. Mrs Hudson stepped out. "What's going on, Sherlock?" she asked.

"Your computer was wrong. Or rather it was right. That man was an exact match of me. But who wants to date themselves?" he said heading for the front door. 

"But then . . . who was the other man?"

"The one for me," Sherlock called, stepping out into the street. He got a cab and gave the driver John's address.


	5. The Ideal Partner

The sounds of the phone startled John as he realised deep down he'd resigned to the fact that it wasn't going to go off at all. He snatched it up and read the message, sitting up now.

_I know, Sherlock. I'm sorry. -JW_

He didn't know what Sherlock was doing now or who he was with but John would apologise for the trick as much as he needed to. Even if it still meant never seeing Sherlock again.

The cab made its way through the streets before turning onto John's. Sherlock's phone vibrated as he paid the driver and got out of the car. He stood outside John's flat.

_I don't know if I can believe you. I'll probably need to inspect at your face again. Go open your front door. SH_

"Oh," John said, scrambling out of bed and hurrying to the door. He didn't even answer back. He pulled open the door and stood in the frame, looking at Sherlock nervously.

"No talking, please," Sherlock said, stepping inside. "Let me take a look."

He looked over John's face, reading it. His skills were working just fine. John wasn't a liar, despite the trick. Just being close to him again told Sherlock what he needed to know. John was clever and handsome and made Sherlock feel good. He lifted his hands to John's cheeks and then bent down to kiss his mouth softly. Then he looked into John's eyes. "I can see clearly now, John, so I'll spot any tricks. Don't take advantage of a trust I give to very few people." He made a soft smile. "It's you. You're the one. Now take my coat and invite me in properly so we can kiss some more."

John stood still and gazed at Sherlock as he studied. He wondered what Sherlock was seeing, what he was looking for. And then Sherlock was touching his face and kissing him and he couldn't stop grinning even though he was trying to listen to Sherlock's words. "I promise I won't, Sherlock. I'll never trick you again." He hung Sherlock's coat and then tugged  him into the sitting room. He leaned up and kissed him again.

Sherlock pulled John down on to the sofa and kissed him harder. Then he pushed him back a little, kind of resting on top of him. He looked into his eyes. "I don't want someone exactly like me. I am frustrating, John -- if you don't know that yet, you will soon enough. But I want to be with you, even just seeing you makes me . . . feel something I don't know I've ever felt." He leaned down and kissed him again.

John brought a hand into his hair and gripped tightly before looking at him. "When I came to the table I never expected something this intense."

"Let's find out why, John," Sherlock said, not having expected such intensity either. He let himself sink against John, it felt so good -- a familiarity right beside the newness. He moved a hand to hold John's hip as they continued to kiss.

John moaned softly and pressed up against him. "Want to move to my room?" He murmured, his voice quiet between them.

"I'm nervous," Sherlock said awkwardly. "But yes."

John nodded. "I'm nervous too," he assured him. "But it doesn't have to mean anything has to happen. Whatever we're comfortable with." He shifted and gently pulled Sherlock along to his bedroom.

Sherlock followed John into his room. It was neat but sparse, as John had said. John wasn't the same as Sherlock -- they had similarities, but in some ways, John was Sherlock's complement. He let John move onto the bed first and then lay down beside him, not really touching yet.

John scooted close to him and placed a hand on his cheek, stroking with his thumb lightly. He smiled before leaning in to kiss him, doing so a bit hard as he pressed his body against Sherlock.

Sherlock inhaled at the kiss, taking and then matching it. One of his hands slipped to John's back. He kicked off his shoes and then tangled their legs -- in fact, when John put a hand in Sherlock's hair, he realised that's precisely how he felt: totally and blissfully tangled up with John.

John moaned softly as he pressed into Sherlock and then shifted to get on top of him. He straddled Sherlock's hips and started unbuttoning his shirt slowly, rocking his hips gently.

Sherlock froze for just a second when John started on his shirt. He was more than nervous now. Yes, it was partly because it'd been so long since he had sex with someone, but it was more than that. It was because it had never felt like this -- so necessary and natural and right. He took a breath, put his hands on John's thighs and watched John's face above him. He lifted up to help John remove his shirt and then pulled at John's clothing as well.

John lifted a bit to get his own shirt off, pausing to admire Sherlock's body. He ran his hands over his shoulders and chest, looping around his sides as he came down to kiss his neck. He sucked and nipped softly, moving lower. "You're gorgeous," he murmured against his skin.

"I think you are," Sherlock said softly. He tried to memorise the sensation of John's mouth on his neck. He moved his hands to John's bare back and felt the muscles, tight and strong and undoubtedly absent from Sherlock's own physique. He tipped his head to smell John's hair -- to take in everything of John.

John smiled and continued lower, nipping at his collar bone as he passed it, kissing his way to Sherlock's nipple. He bit lightly before he sucked and licked it, rolling his hips against Sherlock's harder.

"John," Sherlock exhaled slowly. He realised he had to give in to any feelings of insecurity or vulnerability to let himself go and enjoy this. If he couldn't, he should stop it right now. But he didn't want to stop. Despite everyting, he did trust John and knew that he wanted this with him. He reached his hand to John's hand and rested it in his hair. John's mouth and movements sent electricity through Sherlock's entire body.

John hummed and continued his path down, kissing and nipping at his soft skin. He started working at the button of his trousers, tugging those and his pants off as well as he moved along.

Sherlock reached down and pushed off his clothing. He was already hard and the anticipation was driving him crazy. "Yours too," he mumbled, awkwardly reaching for John.

"In a minute, okay? I want to do this first," he murmured. He licked a stripe up his shaft before sucking Sherlock into his mouth.

"Fuck, John," Sherlock called without thinking of how loud his voice might seem. "Sorry," he said a little more softly. "God, it feels good." He rested a hand on John's shoulder, his other gripped the cover on the bed. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling of John's mouth over him, pulling him in.

John hummed and smiled around him before bobbing his head earnestly, swirling his tongue as he moved up and down on him. He was rolling his own hips into the bed for friction.

Sherlock pressed his head back against the bed and bit his lip. It felt so . . . good -- the word was not enough. He let his hips rock just a little with John's movement, though he so easily could have just let go and thrashed around the bed, shouting John's name and swear words over and over. He did his best to just say, "Yes, yes, yes" over and over.

John continued moving up and down, dipping to suck on his balls and lick between his legs. He rubbed Sherlock's hole lightly as he went back to sucking his cock, just to touch him and introduce the idea.

Sherlock's muscles tensed at John's touch, but then he relaxed. Whatever the reason -- he trusted John and wanted him this way. He separated his legs a little and whispered, "Yes, John." 

John pressed softly but not enough to push through. He pulled off and licked his balls again before coming up again and kissing his mouth. "I want you," he murmured, pushing his own trousers off and dropping them on the floor. He palmed at his cock through his pants, kissing Sherlock hard as he slid them off as well.

"I want you, too," Sherlock said softly against the kiss. He reached down to hold John's cock, slowly stroking it, pulling it towards his own body to brush against his own as his hand moved.

John moaned and rolled into his hand before shifting to get the lube and a condom from his drawer. He poured a bit on his hand and then rubbed it onto Sherlock, pulling his legs back a bit. He pressed kisses on Sherlock's thigh and knee as he pressed one finger into him.

Sherlock recognised the feeling -- a sense of being filled and wanting to be full. He moaned softly.

John kept pressing kisses along his leg as he pumped his hand, gently adding a second one and working him open a bit harder. He looked so sexy underneath him and he told him as much. "You're so lovely . . . so sexy," he murmured.

"It's good," Sherlock said, rocking his hips against John's fingers. "Fuck . . . it is." It was kind of a stupid thing to say, but it was the only thing that he could say.

"That's good, Sherlock," John said quietly as he spread his fingers gently. Of all the people John had ever been with, no one had ever made him care so much about getting everything just right. Of being everything perfect. He didn't know how to describe this effect Sherlock was having on him but he wanted everything to be the best it could be for him. Slowly he added a third finger.

"John, please," Sherlock moaned softly. He was afraid to look up, afraid even to open eyes. The whole thing was already so sexy -- so _much_ \-- he wasn't sure he could look.

John reached his free hand up and cupped Sherlock's cheek, stroking lightly. "Please what, love?" He knew he was being a bit mean but he pumped his fingers a little harder while he waited, curving them lightly to hit Sherlock's prostate. 

"God," Sherlock exhaled. "Please . . . I want you to . . ."

"To what?" John asked softly, leaning over him and getting very close to his lips. "Tell me..." he murmured, his lips grazing Sherlock's now. 

"Don't tease me," Sherlock said, looking up at him. "Please just do it -- I'm going to come just from this." He smiled and then all of a sudden, a little laugh came out. "Come on . . . please . . ." he said, still smiling.

John smiled and then chuckled softly with him, kissing him mouth before he sat up properly and pulled his fingers out slowly. He rolled the condom on, put a bit more lube on himself and then lined up. "Since you asked so nicely," he smiled wider, pushing slowly into Sherlock's body. He leaned over him again and kissed his mouth softly, pecking as he sank into him. 

Sherlock exhaled hard as John pushed in. He lifted his arms to John's back, spreading his fingers wide across the muscles before settling them on his hips to help control their movement. He lifted his own hips a bit to encourage John to start rocking. 

John followed and rocked with him, rolling his hips back and forth as he leaned in to kiss him hard. 

"Fuck," Sherlock moaned. "That feels good, John." But it felt more than good -- it felt right.

"I know . . .God," John groaned, pushing into him a bit faster and a little harder. He didn't want to hurt Sherlock, but it felt so good he couldn't help it.

Sherlock used his hands to urge John on. "John, yes," he moaned, rocking his hips against John's thrusts. "God, yes."

John found his mouth and kissed him hard, slipping a hand between them to stroke Sherlock as well, trying to match his thrusts.

John's hand on his cock increased every sensation in Sherlock's body. "Yes," he called again, squeezing his legs around John, pulling him towards his body. "God, John, it's so . . . much."

John dragged his mouth to Sherlock's ear. "M'close too..." he panted.

"Me too," Sherlock said. He thrusted his hips harder, concentrating on every part of John that was touching him. "God, please," he moaned and then he was coming, spilling over them, his muscles contracting around John.

John moaned loudly as Sherlock squeezed around him. He pushed in one final time, coming into Sherlock as he called out for him. It was the most intense orgasm he'd had in a long time, his face buried in Sherlock's neck and shoulder as he rode it out. Finally he slumped over Sherlock and gently pulled out, tossing his condom in the bin before lying beside him.

Sherlock panted next to John, turning to curl against him. "John," he managed to get out. "Was it okay? Is this all okay?"

John nodded, bringing an arm up to pet his hair. "Oh yes. Are you okay?"

"Yes, it's just. . ." Sherlock said. For a second he thought he might cry but instead he made a laugh. "This is so . . . strange. What are we doing?"

"What do you mean? What's wrong?" John asked, smiling softly.

"We barely know each other and I . . . I don't even like people. What have you done to me?" Sherlock said, still smiling a bit stupidly.

John started laughing softly. "Everything has moved so quickly but you drive me crazy -- I meant that," he smiled.

"I hope that's a good thing," Sherlock said. "I worry a little about all this."

For a moment John wondered if Sherlock had met the other man again -- if something had happened to sway Sherlock towards him instead. Whatever it was John was grateful for it; the risk he'd taken that night paid off well and he had never felt so happy. He thought about the chances of meeting Sherlock if all of this hadn't happened and he crowded a bit closer as if he was going to lose him. "It feels really good so I'm taking that as a sign," he smiled. "Do you feel good?"

"Yes," Sherlock said, looking over at John's face. He stroked it softly. "Yes, it feels good."

John smiled wider and turned to kiss his hand. "Good. That makes me happy to hear," he said. 

It made Sherlock happy as well because actually it was quite scientific. Lying here next to John -- the best evidence of all.


End file.
